A Gypsy Turns 40

Well, I suppose I can't really call myself a "gypsy" in the purest sense. I mean, sure, I'm pretty restless and god knows I'm addicted to travel, even if it's just a day to the mountains. Sure, I've lived in dozens of places and have the art of moving down to a science. But, at the end of it all, I would have to say that I'm still just an aspiring gypsy. After all, I've been blathering on about traveling around the world since I was 20 and yes, 40 looms in just under a year so dammit! It's time to stop talking and pack up my crap and get outta dodge.
Why have I chickened out so many times? I don't think it's been the chickening-out frankly, just things come up. Usually a boy or a job and usually they are mutually exclusive. This time, they are going to have to live without me. Well, it's not like I have a boyfriend and while I have a fantastic job, it's one that hopefully, luckily, I can come back to. Lucky for me, I can work in a bar, pub, restaurant, hotel, motel, spa, tepee, yert or shack by the sea if need be. I did it when I worked in Montreal and I'm pretty sure I can do it on the road if I have to. Trouble is, I was much younger and the bones didn't creak as much after an eight hour stint hauling ice, pouring beer and putting up with drunks. Oh well.
As 4-0 looms, I keep thinking about friends my age who have kids, families, mortgages, dogs, careers, etc., and wonder what the heck happened to me? It's not like I couldn't really do it, it just hasn't really worked out. I mean I had a pretty lively career in radio, TV, print media, et al. But, well, it's just all dried up. So, without so much as a plant to depend on me, it's time to go out and shake things up. My parents are supportive, worried I'm sure, but happy for me. I honestly think mom is sick of me talking about it and dad, well, dad keeps forgetting that I'm actually doing it. I think he's just in denial. I'll worry about him more than he about me, that's for sure. If I can get this blog thing down, and find some internet cafe's, I'll be in business. Then maybe I can find a job on the travel channel, find Rachael Ray and kick her ass. Just kidding, I don't even watch her show. I just want hers.
Enough of the babble. Gotta figure out how to post photos from a remote location....

Traveldiva

I used to have a website called "TRAVELDIVA.NET" on which I placed travelogues, information links and miscellany about my adventures. However, I moved while I had this site and because I didn't get my notice about re-newing my name, it was commandeered...stolen, pinched. Now, it's being held ransom by some company that buys names and then extorts money to get them back. Nice. Anyway, I thought about traveldiva.blogspot, but some clever Aussie chicks thought of that first, so I decided that I will now and for-the-time-being, be known as The Gypsy Girl. I'm going to post current blogs, archives and sometimes steps I am taking towards my trip, which begins in April. If you have any advice or want to post comments and stories, please do. Enjoy!

Cabrillo Highway

The weather here in the Bay Area has been unseasonably warm these last few days, and from experience I can tell you that it's the ideal time to head over to the coast, and go South. I discovered the Cabrillo Highway when I lived in Pacifica and now whenever I need to clear my chakras, I jump on the Bay Bridge, head over the hill to Highway 1 and drive towards Half Moon Bay. This past Sunday, it was a balmy 80 degrees out and not a cloud in sight. A perfect Sunday starts at Johan's place in San Gregorio, where fishermen, surfers and locals come together to drink Scott's famous made-to-order Bloody Mary's and "blasters," a dangerous mix of Red Bull and Jagermeister. Brrr....I get the chills even thinking about it. With the Raider game as a backdrop, the Bloody's were flowing, along with tales of Costa Rica, Mavericks, and a crab season that has been precarious because of price disputes between crabbers and buyers.
I can usually be entertained with these characters for at least a couple of hours, which is plenty of time to enjoy a couple of bloody's and the famous grilled crab sandwich, which will set you back about $12, but it's well worth it.
After Johann's, I headed back up the coast, passing some amazing vistas and scores of people in their bathing suits, in the water! No wet suit required on this day. If I had provisions, would have surely descended the stairs to my little nude beach, but that deserves a whole day and truth be told, it's just not tanning season. I did manage to hike for an hour up on the cliffs just south of Montara. I used to take my little doggie Cleo there almost every day after the radion show and I got a little emotional thinking about her. Oh well...life moves on, and so did I...back North and home to the hills.

Jr. Gong in the Cruz

I've been following the Marley family for as long as I can remember. Except for the legendary patriarch himself (sniff sniff) I've seen everyone in the clan perform over the past 15 years. From Rita and the Melody Makers in Jamaica, to the brothers all over Northern Cali, I can't seem to get enough. Lately, I can't get my fill of the youngest member of the tribe: Damian "Jr. Gong." Born to Bob and Cindy Breakspeare, Damian has been touring with the Ghetto Youth Crew, led by Stephen and nurtured by the family, for the last few years and is also a Grammy winner. His latest CD, "Welcome to Jam-Rock" is a mix of hip-hop, dance hall and roots reggae, and layered with his prodigious blend of conscious lyrics that stir the soul and the mind. I've seen him a few times this year, including up at Mateel in Redway and at Reggae on the River. He played Tuesday night at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz and as usual...did not disappoint. We danced our asses off to say the least. The CHOW crew was there, including Shane from the Island of Oahu, Jimmy (pictured) the man who was born to tour the world as a concert critic, Josh Stanz and his girl, and SHAREEF! who showed up for the encore, after I misplaced his ticket at least three times. All in all it was a great experience, although security was kind of aggressive because of the under age kids, the testosterone boys and fact that anyone who wanted a cocktail had to be herded into a pen and frisked. Oh well, it was worth it.

Life at the Tortoise

I always forget how much fun the Green Tortoise can be. No, it's not a posh, upscale hotel like the Mondrian on Sunset or even the W South of Market, but for me, it's the place to stay in San Francisco. I had so much fun there last weekend, it's taken me a week to recover to be able to tell the tale. I arrived on a Friday night around 6:30 P.M. after dragging my suitcase all the way from the Montgomery Street BART station and stopping for a beer at the Catalan Bistro on Belden Place. (This is a great little alley, full of Euro bistro's, tea lights and outdoor seating.) The weather was perfect and the walk was refreshing. Up Kearny to Broadway and the Green Tortoise awaits. I checked into my co-ed dorm and found a free dinner of Shephard's pie and salad. Most people had their own drinks, beers, juice, and a few Bacardi Coolers and I was there empty-handed. Not for long, though. I ran down to the corner store and got a six-pack of Red Stripe and was in business. As I sat there with my little beer, I couldn't help but notice all of the accents murmuring around the common room that overlooks the notorious neon signs boasting sexy ladies, massage and the world famous North Beach night life. As I sat pondering my next move, I looked up and noticed that each Friday night the GT hosts a pub crawl, with "drink specials, great bars and no cover." Nice, an organized pub crawl with fun travelers and accents galore. Sure, it doesn't take much to get me all excited but I seriously couldn't wipe the grin off. I just sat in the lobby waiting, grinning, smiling, refraining from doing a jig...Didn't want to scare the people. From what I could gather, most of the crowd were Brits, Aussies, a couple of Germans and a guy from Spain who was just dancing to the rhythm's in his mind. Around 8, an American guy named Stan popped out, ready to lead us to our first destination, after he reminded us to bring our I.D.'s, cash and dancing shoes. As we left, I had to run up and get my money, and almost missed the boat. Thank goodness for the English girl next to me, who stalled the group until I could catch up.
We started up Broadway and turned right onto Columbus, then down to Grant and into the Magnet Lounge. Cute, small with house music and fruit-infused vodka's. I chose the mango over -ice and when the bartender carded me with "wow...good job," I knew I was in the right place. Luckily, most European boys appreciate older women and I was gawked at for a few good minutes. The crawl took us all over North Beach, into Shannon's, to a couple of bars I can't remember and then finally to the Velvet Lounge, where we were whisked-in without paying a cover charge. We all danced...I in particular was quite the clubby girl, working off a week of hard work, and was so happy to be there I started fantasizing that I was in some club in London, Berlin or Barcelona. We got back to the Tortoise just in time for a sing-along in some room on the third floor and I think I made it back to my bunk around 4 a.m. Wow. I want to go back.
Saturday I was slow in getting up, but my dorm-mates were quick to point out that I was the last one in and must have great stories to spin. My only story cost someone two aspirin...I shared my love of the city and knowledge of the best stores. "FOREVER 21," I shouted to the only girl in the group who's name escapes me but I took to calling her POSH because she looks just like Victoria Beckham. We all talked about politics and of course I was quick to point out that I didn't vote for Bush...so I wasn't going to take the blame for all of the crap done in my name around the world. That seemed to help. No one likes that guy. Wonder why.
Anyway, I thought a little hair of the dog was in order, especially since it was noon and the Saloon was open. I took advantage of the GT's free breakkie and headed out to the bright sunny day. Yikes. Strip clubs open for business and I was beginning to wonder if they ever closed....
Had a beer at the Saloon on Grant and then as I was about to leave, this guy next to me says "hey wanna shot of Tequila?" NO. No no no. So, I had a beer in honor of Josh's birthday, along with his girlfriend Skylar, and made fast friends. Turns out they were from Pismo, up for the weekend for his 23rd birthday. The skateboarder and the princess. We ended up hanging out all day but by the time they were ready to go out for the night, the old lady here was so pooped, I passed out by 9. Got up around midnight and scooted over to VIXEN for a martini, talked to a guy about to ship out to Iraq, back to bed and slept until 10 a.m.
After breakfast, it was off to Vesuvius for a bloody mary and catch up some Harry Potter, when some Irish guy named Kevin started breathing his fresh whiskey breath all over me. Yum. NOT! I had to ditch him by running around the block, into City Lights book store and then back. Dude, nice 9 a.m. whiskey. I mean, if you are on holiday...maybe, but HELLO!!!! Anyway, I walked all over China Town and ended up at Larry Flint's Hustler Club...okay, I was curious! But, I managed to buy a killer t-shirt that says "barely legal" and promptly wore it to work the next day. Great souvenir, don't ya think? I can't wait to go back. If you are ever traveling to San Francisco and want to make instant friends, I highly recommend the Tortoise. I have so many memories there and besides, they don't just offer a bed. Check out their website and see the amazing cross-country bus trips they offer. From San Fran to Alaska, Yosemite, and even across the country. They even do Burning Man, which, if I ever go again, I'm taking the Tortoise FOR SURE! It's better than going alone, living on a diet of playa dust and Coors Light. But I digress... www.greentortoise.com

Down the Hill

Sometimes, you can find adventure right in your back yard. When you live in the San Francisco Bay Area, your back yard is overflowing with city life, mountain retreats and everything in-between. This weekend, I'm traveling 15 whole miles from my Berkeley bungalow to the world famous Green Tortoise Hostel on Broadway in San Francisco. My fabulous weekend getaway includes a bunk in an 8-bed dorm, free breakfast, chance meetings with other world travelers and a little down time. Plus, the hostel is located near the famous North Beach district, where strip joints and beatnik bars meet Italian food and Chinatown. I've never had a bad experience at the Tortoise and I recommend it to any adventure traveler who wants to make friends and step off the beaten path. Check out their site at www.greentortoise.com

Got Wanderlust?

Since I've got six months until takeoff, I thought I would start by exchanging advice, opinions, scandals, stories, contacts, warnings and/or info. I'm going to start in London around mid-April and after that...who knows? People keep asking me "where, how, when, why, with whom?" and I have to honestly answer...DUNNO! I'm also working on retrieving my website downloads so I can republish them on another site and then link it to my blog. Any advice on that would be fab. Also, if you plan to be in Europe next summer let me know. I'm planning to brave the world cup!

Running Away...

I've spent my entire life traveling, and my insatiable wanderlust seems to pull me out the door with each passing day. This year, I'm finally realizing a life long dream of running away from home, only to return when a) my money runs out or b) never. I ran a really cool website called traveldiva.net, when my name expired and I didn't receive the notice, the hosting company tried trying to extort money from me to buy the name back. Bastards! Anyway, so I am now the gypsy girl and it's just as well. I never felt like much of a diva anyway. I'm going to try and post past stories and photos as well as travel tips for the single girl and then once I leave in April, will keep an on-line journal for friends and family and anyone who is interested in my ramblings.